Forgotten September
by Finaly123
Summary: A girl. A waitress. No one important. Maybe two hours earlier, she was just a waitress. Now she's a waitress he tries to know better. Follow struggles of their lives and their uneasy way of finding each other. Modern AU. É/E
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** So, this idea was eating me for a longer time. So, tell me what you think. Also, English is not my native language, so be ready for new wave of apologies. By the way, I'm sorry for my English.  
Enjoy!

I own nothing.

* * *

A girl. A waitress. No one important.

She brought him his coffee as usually, he wasn't giving her a second look. For Enjolras , she's just a waitress like any other. After she left, his look slowly moved from the pages of the book, to his coffee. He was watching small clouds of steam, the smell of coffee reaching his nose. He inhaled it slowly. He's always loved the smell of good coffee.

The girl came back slowly, giving him the milk he's requested earlier. He wondered why didn't she bring it with coffee, but then he noticed her left hand. Strange angle, in which her hand was curled told him, that her hand is broken or dislocated. It was bandaged and it hurt her for sure.

"Why are you working with this?" he asked her maybe the first question in weeks, pointing on her bandaged hand.

"Excuse me?" she asked him, her eyes showing confusion to him.

He sighed silently. Why nobody understands him?

"Why are you working, when your hand obviously hurt you?" he said.

She clenched her fist unwittingly, looking at him with her deep brown eyes.

"I... I have to, that's all," she said. He immediately knew, that she didn't tell him everything.

"Would you like anything else?" she asked him.

He realized, that she doesn't want to talk about it, so he let her go. And with that, the thing was done.

He was looking at white walls of the room he was sitting in. Nothing has changed here over the year.

Soon, Amis joined him, discussing the start of the school year loudly. He lifted his eyes, meeting with theirs, as they were sitting down at the tables.

"Enjolras, did you hear it? Jane's pregnant!" that was the first thing he's heard when they came. He slowly closed his book, meeting with Courfeyrac's face.

"And what am I to do about it?" he responded.

His friends gave him few strange looks.

"Well, it seems, that old Enjolras is still here and we must live by his side for another year," Joly sighed.

Enjolras rolled his eyes at them. They weren't like him. In fact, he doesn't even know, why did he became friend with them. But now, he has to admit, that he can't live without them. Not now, when their friendship has grown.  
He looked at them, memories and thoughts running across his mind.

Combeferre, who's maybe the most normal of them all. Courfeyrac, who's the one with bad jokes and is bad with choosing a woman too. Joly, who's hypochondriac, but still a good friend. Jehan, who's still in his Shakespeare's books and poetry. Bahorel, the quiet one, with the force of lion inside him. Bousset, the one with bad luck, but maybe the wisest of his friends. Also the oldest in the group. Feuilly, quite quiet too, but his love for nature is visible on first sight. Oh, and Grantaire. The drunkard who should stop with drinking but he isn't doing so.  
Marius is missing... Again. From the day he's met his girl, Cosette, his attention wasn't at their meetings. Enjolras didn't understand him but he respected his decisions.  
Enjolras has never been in relationship with anybody. He wasn't interrested in women. Patria was his only mistress. No looks of his "fan-girls" has convinced him. He just send them away.  
And that's all. Les Amis de l'ABC.

They've met when they were at high school. Not all of them, but most. Their friendship started, when Enjolras helped Grantaire with his test secretly. Soon, Grantaire's friends became Enjolras' too. And here they are. After a five years they are here, sitting, talking.

"Well, I hope you're ready. This month is ideal for a protest," Enjolras said looking at them.

"You don't think it really do you?"

"I want a break!"

"You'll kill us once!"

"No, after the last one I'm not doing anything!"

Amis were showing him their protest visibly. He sighed. When will they stop acting like a group of kids and grow up finally?  
He knew, that they would stay with him even if they don't like it. They were friends after all.

The girl come again, with her small note.

"Would you like to order something?" she asked them with light smile on her lips. He took the opportunity, to look at her better.  
Amis were yelling one across the other like a herd of cows, poor girl not understanding a word.

"Slow down a bit," he said and they looked firstly at him, secondly at her and they immediately fell silent. She gave him a small smile which he didn't return.

"Well, I'd like some espresso," someone said and girl's look moved back to her note.

He was observing her. She was too thin. Anorexia probably. Girls in her age are doing those diets and who knows what else. Maybe some other problem was behind her poor state... Her brown eyes were giving him a false illusion. He noticed immediately, that behind the wall of illusion, there's something she wants to stay hidden. Her clothes weren't new for sure. And then, there was her bandaged hand. He moved his look away from her to window. Sun was slowly but certainly moving down on the sky. Darkness will come in maybe less than half an hour.

"Anything else?" he heard her ask and when no one responded she left them.

"Well, as I can see, Éponine's still a waitress here," Combeferre commented when she left them.

Éponine. He's almost forgotten her name. But on the other hand, he doesn't need it. It's just one thing more to remember on for him.

"I wonder if it is good or not," Enjolras muttered, so no one could hear him. Amis soon started a new topic in which he wasn't interested in. No, pregnancy of their classmate is not interesting for him.

"I'm going to take some fresh air," he said and they nodded. They were already used to his manners and they knew he's bored so they let him be. He slowly stood up and walked out of Musain, meeting with other waitress, Musichetta, who was carrying the coffee to Amis. Musichetta was maybe his only female friend. If he doesn't count his sister. They've met here, in Musain, when Joly and Bousset introduced her to him. Her relationship with them was quite difficult, but he never said anything about it. He let his friends to live their own lives.  
He greeted her silently and continued his way out.

There were a few people sitting out there, reading newspapers, or waiting for someone. Steaming cups of coffee were in front of them, making the scene like the one from romantic movies.

He almost bumped to waitress who was walking opposite him, making her to loose her balance. He instinctively caught her by her hand so she wouldn't fall. Only her note ended on ground. She hissed from pain immediately and he realized it is a girl with bandaged hand. He helped her to gain her balance again.

"I'm sorry. My mistake," he said and he ducked to give her back her note. He handed it to her right hand, his fingers touching her skin.

"Thanks," she mumbled and she continued her way to Café.

He was just looking at her frame, as she oafishly opened the door of Musain. He shook his head and started to walk.

New school year. After this only another one and he'll be free of school. After the end of college he'll be able to make a proper protest and maybe later attend university and become a lawyer or politic. He'll be able to change the world. Exactly like in his dreams.

He returned to Musain slowly, seeing that Amis are having fun. He listened as Courf was making another one of his jokes. The jokes were so bad sometimes, that you just have to laugh on its stupidity. He sighed and he packed his things.

"I'm going now. See you tomorrow," he said and he walked through the maze of chairs and tables. His look lifted when he heard her voice. She was in the doorway, her health hand holding a phone next to her ear. He was able to hear something of her conversation.

"No... No, I didn't... Yes please, and check if Gavroche has written his homework... When? I am on my way...Father's coming home, that's not a good idea. See you at home," and with that she hung the phone, meeting with his look.

"Oh, sorry," she whispered and she moved away from the doorway.

"It's alright," he muttered and hoped, that she isn't sharing the same way with him.

What a coincidence.

They were walking together, awkward silence settling between them . No one wanted to slow down, no one wanted to turn to another street, no one wanted to break that awkward silence between them.

"Well, where are you studying?" he asked her suddenly, making her to lift her head sharply.

"What? Well... I don't study," she responded and her head lowered to its previous position.

"Why?" he asked. She couldn't be more than seventeen. She can study.

"Because I don't have money." Her answer was simple, yet not enough for him. He knows that there are families, which don't have the money for their kids to continue to college.

"What about scholarship?"

She sighed.

"Truth be told, I don't have a time for studying."

He was watching empty streets carefully, thinking about her words.

"You are so busy?" And if she is then with what?

"This is something I don't want to talk about," she said.

"And why is it that?"

He was surprised by himself. Maybe two hours earlier, she was just a waitress. Now she's a waitress he tries to know better.

"Monsieur, look. It's not easy for me to talk about it," she whispered.

"You've given up on your dreams because you can't attend the college?" He asked her. This was the reason he fought for freedom and equality. Everyone should have the same rights!  
He didn't even said her not to call him Monsieur, he was so excited. But his face reminded cold and still.

"I wasn't given an option," she said so quietly he almost didn't understand her. She lifted her head, her brown eyes meeting his. This answer has awoken curiosity inside him and he was ready to ask her about it.

"I have to go," she said and she walked across the street. He was watching her as she lost in the shadows of the cold gray street. He was standing there for a while and then he finally continued his way home.  
Strange girl, he thought.

He was walking maybe fifteen minutes and then he walked past the shop and the turned to small alley. He started to look after his keys. He was that kind of person, who has to search for at least five minutes and then he finds out that he already holds keys in his hand. He just sighed and opened the door walking up the steps to his flat. He put his bag in the corner, sitting into chair, thinking.

_I wasn't given an option._ What does she mean by that? No one can force her to leave her dreams. No one has a right to.

She represents the people he fights for. And he didn't notice her earlier. He's obviously oblivious.  
But never mind. As he was walking past the flats, shops and houses, he decided to ask her about her situation. Why isn't she able to get scholarship? Why isn't she studying?

But the most important question was the one he isn't going to say aloud:

How it is possible, that she's changed in his eyes in the matter of hours?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N  
**Here's next chapter.  
Thank you for reading and reviewing. Also, thank you for favoring and following!  
I'm sorry for my English.  
Enjoy!

I own nothing

* * *

He walked to Musain, greeting Musichetta with light bow of his head. His eyes were looking for her, the girl from yesterday, but she was no where to be found.  
Café was more or less empty and there dominated silence, sometimes ruined by loud laugh of small groups sitting there.  
His look flew through the Café last time, seeing that she just isn't here.  
He sat down. After all, it isn't concern. She's just a waitress. Waitress like any other.

Musichetta came to his side, her long hair falling into her face. She had a note similar to girl's with only different color. Musichetta's was blue and white. Girl's note was red.

"What would you like Enj?" she asked him. He didn't show her, how much he hates this nickname, because he knew, that Amis would immediately create a new one.

"The usual," he said, looking out of a window. There were groups of students, like him or kids going from school. Sky was clearly blue, there wasn't any clue of clouds. Wind has blown colorful leaves of the nearby tree to pavement. Beautiful day. He sighed silently and turned his head from the sight. September days were mostly beautiful here.  
Musichetta left him, while he was looking out.

From the small TV, which was placed up, in the corner of the room he was sitting in, a reporter was talking about something. He looked at the tall dark haired man and his eyes were reading the text on the bottom of the screen.

"Shocking news! Minister has slapped his own wife! The divorce would be the best thing for them now, but from our sources we know, that they're trying to solve it," the voice of reporter echoed the room.

Enjolras sighed. Who's interested in personal life of ministers? Who cares about their home situation? From when are the News just about slapping, love affairs and other crap? He doesn't want to hear this. He want to hear something useful. Not these gossips.  
But reporter wasn't going anywhere. He was continuing with other "news".  
" ... and this singer has to pay his ex-wife a pretty big wad..."  
He turned his eyes away.  
How can he watch something, when there is hundred of commercials, two hundred of gossips, and five hundred of useless shows that continue only because people are watching them? And inside of this, there's a few programs which are actually interesting, but lost in the tons of other shows.

Musichetta came to him, placing hot cup of coffee in front of him. At least, his attention turned on something else.

"Thanks," he said.

He was watching the young woman leaving. But then something in his mind made his lips open.

"Musichetta?" he stopped her.

She turned to him slowly expecting what does he want from her. Those moments, when Enjolras was talking to her willingly were precious like a pearl in the river.

"Yes?"

"Where's the other girl? "as the words has left his lips, he was cursing himself. Now he's showed interest. Now Musichetta will suspect him and Amis will make a fun of him.

Musichetta sighed.

"She's sick," she said and left him without a comment. And he immediately knew it is lie. But why would Musichetta lie to him? Is there something more behind girl's missing?  
He was watching girl's back his eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Enjolras!" he immediately know whose voice it was. Grantaire. And some others were with him. They slowly sat behind the table.

"You know what?" he asked him.

Enjolras sighed again.

"I already know that Jane's pregnant."

"But you don't know with who!" Grantaire continued.

"And what should I do about it?"

"Well, nothing. But it's interesting!"

"Grantaire, please, stop with this. We have a work to do," Enjolras pulled out a white sheet of paper and started to write.

_Protest 20th September_

"I've thought that you were joking." Combeferre groaned when he saw it.

"You don't think it really," Bousset joined.

"But I do. At least you will have some more motion. You're still sitting here," he said. He was already prepared for their reactions, so he was just waiting, when they will stop.

"Enjolras, do you really want another protest after the last one?"Courf asked with his brows lifted in question.

"One defeat can't destroy your dreams," Enjolras responded and soon, no one had a comment so they started with plans.

"But 20th September? It is like eighteen days. That isn't much," someone objected.

"Don't worry. I have made some preparations."

He sighed and when no one objected anymore they could finally start.

"So, what is this protest about?"

"Equal rights for lower classes." Enjolras said and he wrote the theme down on paper.

"Enjolras, we don't have a chance, not alone. Let's join the other groups through the city," Courf said.

"But we have chance! People will rise with us."

"Like they did last time? How much of your people were there? Four? Five?" Combeferre said, sipping from his bottle which he brought with himself.

"Look, I'm planning this a few weeks. I have a strategy."

"We should have known! You were acting strange yesterday!" Bousset groaned and looked at the sheet of paper, now full of words, drawings and sentences.

Meanwhile, Musichetta came, ready for ordering. Amis were calmer than yesterday. They have ordered like normal people, not like a herd of cows.

And after this interruption, they were working for maybe two hours without a break.

"It's starting to look good. Just wait. This will be success!" he said.

"Yes, yes..." Amis responded drowsily. His eyes were watching his friends, some of them already asleep.

"I guess, that's enough for today," he muttered and packed his things. Some of Amis, who've heard him sighed.

"Finally," they muttered.

"See you later!" he said and he left Musain. His eyes last time wondered to Musain and then he turned from the building.  
The leaves were floating in the wind, falling down on the ground slowly.

As he was walking past the familiar buildings, his mind went to that girl again. What was her name? They've mentioned it yesterday... É... Something with É.

But as much as he tried, he didn't remember.

He was watching the sunset in front of him. The golden beams were stinging his sensitive eyes but he didn't move his look away.  
How can one girl, who he knows for about a year at least, take a place in his mind suddenly. How was she able to do it?  
No, she's just a waitress. Waitress like any other.

He stopped when he saw a street, to which she turned yesterday. A strange thought flew through his mind.

"You're stupid, Enjolras. You don't know, where she lives. You don't even know if this is the way to her home. She could have left you because you were asking her improper questions. But it seems that you're really stupid," he thought and he started to walk.  
He was looking at old filthy buildings of these streets. Dirty walls with graffiti, broken windows... Not good quarter of town.

But she was looking like this. She was looking like poor.

He continued his way, seeing prostitutes around and homeless preparing for sleep. Scary shadows were on every step, scary person in every corner.

Some dark figures were shouting loudly on the nearby field. He carefully covered behind the corner. Maybe this wasn't good idea after all. He walked through the small alley, seeing empty bottles, syringes and few needles. The smell of urine and vomit almost made him to throw up his lunch. He quickly placed his hand on his nose, concentrating hard on something beautiful. That stink was almost unbearable. He wasn't the one who was scared easily, but those places were giving him goose bumps.  
Why aren't these places monitored by police? Why are they letting them to do this?

He stopped, when he heard a girl scream from somewhere above his head. Her scream was already full of pain. It was coming from opened window.

"How do you imagine it? You are here to give me money and you give me this? You're good for nothing. How could I create something so stupid?" he could heard a rough man's voice, then slap and the body falling down on the floor.  
Girl said something but her voice was too weak for him to understand.  
"Don't you back talk to me! I am your father you ungrateful little worm!"  
His fist clenched. How he hates this treating. Like the girl means nothing to that man.

He closed his eyes. This is sad reality of those places. Fathers beating their wives, kids. Kids drinking in the age of thirteen. Drug dealers on every step. Prostitutes waiting for customers. Dangerous places.

He left that place, so he didn't need to listen to girl's painful moans and whimpers. He almost saw the scene in front of his eyes but he stopped it. He doesn't want to see it. He would help her if he could. But alone, in this place he felt so fragile and weak... He didn't have the courage to step into it.

He sighed and he walked to better quarter, where the fear slowly left him.

He turned around and saw the gray unhappy place again. If that waitress really lives there, side by side with thieves, dealers, prostitutes and murderers, who knows who she really is. Maybe she is one of them. Maybe she was there, standing on street, waiting for customer. And maybe not. Maybe she isn't like them.

Why is he even thinking about her? She's no one important. He's talked to her like once or twice. He has never found her interesting. So why is she haunting him, her picture leading him to explore the unhappy parts of criminals, beggars and poor?  
Why?

He has to talk to her. He has to find out. Find out why.

And if he would knew, how close to her he was that evening, he would curse himself for his thoughtlessness.

He was just under the window.

And behind that window is now lying a curled still body of a girl covered with bruises and some blood of hers, tears falling down her face. And she's sobbing and hoping.

Hoping for better tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**  
Next chapter. I'm sorry for late update.  
Thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favoring!  
I'm sorry for my English.  
Enjoy!

I own nothing

* * *

Days were passing and she wasn't appearing. It was now fourth day she wasn't at work. He didn't go to that gray sad quarter again. He doesn't want to see eyes of beggars. He doesn't want to hear their pleadings. He doesn't want to feel desperation of that place again. His eyes were watching it, but his legs carried him away before his brain started to play with the idea of getting there again.

Musichetta was strange in last days. Almost paranoid. When she was asked about it, she just said that she's worrying about someone.

It was Friday. That means, that Amis has sports, art classes and so most of Amis won't come to meeting. Maybe no one will come. Enjolras was sitting alone, in almost empty Café, drinking his third coffee already. He was working on his plans and now he finally decided for a break. There were only few other people in Musian.  
Some old woman in pink dress was drinking her cappuccino, her big eyes were watching everything with criticism.

"You should eat something girl. You're too thin," she said when she was ordering to Musichetta.

Enjolras' corners of lips lifted a little when he heard it but then his face turned to marble again. Then there was an elderly couple drinking their tea. And that was all.  
He has already pulled his book out of bag. He looked at his watch. Half past two... He's still a lot of time. He sighed silently, opening the book on page 322.

Weather was still beautiful. Kids were running outside, interrupting the peaceful silence, which settled here, in Musian. Fortunately for Enjolras, the TV was off, so the voices of reporters weren't getting his nerves again.

Door on Café opened slowly, making him to lift his eyes from his book. He didn't recognize the person at first sight, but when the person came closer, he couldn't mistake his friend for anyone else. Dark hair, tall frame...

"Enjolras!" Marius smiled at him.

Enjolras' look observed him quickly. He hasn't changed much. In his eyes, there was still that blind look of love as last time.

"Marius, it's good to see you," he said maybe too formally, but Marius already knew his friend. He knew that Enjolras is Enjolras. And you can expect everything from Enjolras.

"Where are boys? I've thought you're meeting here," Marius asked him.

"Not on Fridays. They are having sport, music or art classes."

"Well, then why are you here?"

Enjolras sighed. What should he say on this question?

"I have nothing to do, so I'm sitting here," he responded.

Musichetta came, getting Marius' attention away.

"So Marius? Are you going to order something?" she smiled at him.

"Just green tea please. Where's 'Ponine? Has she left this job?" Marius said, looking around for someone.

That name was somehow familiar to Enjolras. But again, he couldn't remember on anyone with that name. And as much as he tried, his head couldn't get the pieces of that person in right place.

Musichetta looked at them two carefully.

"She's sick," she said.

He sighed and his look was following Musichetta. Wait... His brain was trying to proceed the information but was interrupted by Marius. He was so close to find out her name... Maybe later, he will find out.

"How it is going with cause Enjolras? Are you planning something?" Marius asked him.

Enjolras was thinking. Should he lie? Should he not? After all, Marius isn't attending half of their meetings. He can get into trouble if he will know about protest. He looked at his friend again and he decided. Marius was asking and he won't be lying.

"Actually yes. A protest. We're still only preparing but I can feel in my bones, that this will be success!"

Marius' phone buzzed suddenly.

"Oh, sorry. That's Cosette. I'll back in a minute," he said and he almost run out of Musain.

Enjolras silently thanked Cosette. He was not in a mood to listen to Marius who would have turned their conversation on his love interest, if she wouldn't stepped in.

He returned to his thick book again.

After a while door opened again. He closed his eyes, preparing for Marius silently. It wasn't like he can't stand his friend. Marius was just annoying sometimes.  
But familiar voice didn't come and no one sat against him.

He opened his pale blue eyes and saw Musichetta almost running towards another person. He recognized that girl in her!  
Enjolras' look was seemingly reading the book, but a corner of his eye were watching the two females. His ears were ready to listen. He wanted to know what's going on with this girl. Why was she missing? Why can't she study, when she has potential? What is her name?

Enjolras was not too happy about this eavesdropping but he was too curious. The flame that Patria has ignited in him has awoken and was ready to fight for the rights of this girl. Or for the rights of any other person in similar state.  
He was always good observer. Now, he's going to use his abilities.

Musichetta hugged girl's thin frame.

"Do you know how worried I am about you?" she said with a hint of reproach in her voice, but her eyes were filled with worry.  
Enjolras' realized, that girl's face twisted a little. He was only guessing why.

"I'm sorry," girl whispered and broke the embrace.

"Did he hurt you?"

Girl's eyes looked around, seeing that no one is paying attention to their conversation. This told him, that she wants this to stay hidden.

"No," she whispered silently.

"There's no need to lie. Siblings are okay?" Musichetta asked. Enjolras' brows twisted a little. If Musichetta already knows when this girl is lying they must be friends. After all, they work with each other. But more interesting thing for him was, that this girl is being hurt. And she's siblings. Who can be hurt too.

Enjolras mind was working like never before. If he could help this girl with her problems, maybe she would help him with his cause a little. After all, she understand the situation of poor better than he or his friends.

"They are. They were scared but they made it," girl said.

"You could at least send Gav here to tell me if you're alright."

Gav. Another familiar name. Where did he hear it?

"I wasn't in state to command him," girl's voice lowered down a little, as if she was scared that someone will hear her.

"So it was bad..." Musichetta stated.

Bad. What does she mean by that? He was confused and curios and wanted to step into their conversation.

If you would look at him, you won't tell that he's thinking about anything else than his book. His look was concentrated, his body still. No indication of a fight that was happening in his mind. He tried really hard not to start asking them questions.

Girl said nothing to Musichetta's statement and she took a red apron and put it on. Her face was too pale, her eyes tired, their illusion still lasting and lying to every living form. Her hand was still bandaged.

Now, he at least know about something behind this illusion.

"I'm going to toilet. I'm back in minute," Musichetta said.

Enjolras slowly closed his book. He looked at girl, who was reading some papers. He stood up slowly. His eyes observed the Café once again. The old woman and couple has left so now they were completely alone in the room.

He approached the bar, hearing the ticking of clocks on the wall opposite of him.

"What would you like?" her eyes lifted, meeting his.

He reminded silent for a while.

"Why weren't you at work?" he felt really stupid after those words left his mouth. But he has to ask. If there's someone who's hurting her, he can stop him. His father can.

Now it was her turn to be silent. She was observing him, her eyes narrowing.

"That is not your concern Monsieur," she said in low voice.

"Who has been hurting you?"

"No one Monsieur, no one," he could recognize a hint of fear in her voice, but she was trying to sound as normal as it was possible.

"Don't lie to me." He said. Truth be told, he wouldn't know if she's lying if Musichetta hasn't said it earlier.

"Why do you even care?"

"Because I can help you. My father is lawyer and..."

"And nothing. I'm not a charity chase." Her answer was sharp and fear indicated in her voice changed into anger.

"If you're being hurt by someone, then he should be set in jail," he said to her. She turned around to leave him, but he grabbed her healthy hand, stopping her.

"Don't refuse my offer just because your pride won't let you," he said.

In this point she turned to him sharply.

"You know nothing about me! You know nothing about my problems! You think that I'm too proud or whatever and you think that you can help me. You know nothing!" she said in cold voice, which made goose bumps on his back.

"You're too stubborn."

"Mister Revolutionary is playing on hero again. You can't help me! Yes, maybe I am stubborn, Enjolras. But I won't allow you to step into my life with enough of your own problems."

His grip tightened around her hand as he heard her words. Maybe first time she's used his name. And he didn't know why but it just felt strange.  
She realized, that he was quiet.

"I'm sorry if I offended you by my words. You can't help me and that's end of conversation." she said.

He looked at her again. Is she really that stubborn? Or is something else behind her strange behavior?

"Let me be," she said.

His eyes were stabbing into hers. Why is she refusing his help? Why isn't she willing to listen him? Why is she opposing him? No one has ever opposed him longer than ten seconds. He's convinced the person, that he's right. And here she is, refusing, opposing and talking to him like no one before did.

"Release me!" she said and she tried to free her thin wrist from his grip.

"Enjolras what are you doing? Release her!" Marius appeared suddenly. His minute out became quarter of an hour.

Enjolras eyes find the brown ones of this mysterious girl.

"Fine. But don't walk to me with pleadings for help later," he said to her.

"As if you've helped me before, Monsieur," she said turning away.

His look wasn't leaving her.

"Hey, what's happening? What's wrong with you? Enjolras?" Musichetta appeared too.

He started to pack his things. From this moment, he started to literally hate that girl. It wasn't hate... It was just that strange feeling that someone has had opposed him after all the years. That girl... That girl with forgotten name.

"Marius?" Musichetta asked again but without a response. Before she addressed the girl Enjolras opened the door sharply, walking across the streets. He was going exactly to home, ignoring strange stares he was getting from people. Yes, angered man with cold look walking fast past the buildings scared them a little.  
Finally, he reached home.  
There, he put his bag into corner and came to mirror in bathroom. He was looking at him.  
"Why is she able to do something that no one ever tried to do?" he whispered his fists clenching in anger. Or was it really anger?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N  
**Another chapter.  
Thanks for reading, reviewing, following, favoring.  
I'm leaving for a few days, so I will not update for four days at least. Thanks for patience.  
Sorry for my English.  
Enjoy and write me your opinion or suggestions if you want!

I own nothing.

* * *

Musichetta looked at her coworker and tried to smile a little.

"I don't know what has happened to him... It just wasn't him. Like someone else was acting instead of him. I would never tell he would act like this," she said to Éponine.

"I know. From what I know, this was completely out of his character. I don't know what has happened to make him act like that," she sighed.

"You know, he has heard every word of our conversation. Now he may find out. What if he will call police? Father would kill me," she continued, looking out of window.

"He won't call police. He will try to find out on his own, if he is interested in it. I just worry about him. You know, he has never acted like this before. His reaction... it was... just strange. Usually he holds his anger inside. Why did he do it?"

"I have no idea," Éponine said, sitting down behind the table.

"But I have one," Musichetta muttered, so her friend won't hear her.

* * *

**Three days later**

Enjolras was looking at Amis.

"This case is already a big success. Now people will rise with us. Poor will help us. We will fight in their name! And we'll establish the rights!" his strong voice was echoing the room.  
He fell silent and sat down again.  
Three days passed since he had an argument with that girl. That waitress who he fights for.  
But even now she was avoiding eye contact with him, while he was carefully watching her.  
She took empty cups from the table and wrote another orders down on her note and disappeared.

"... is pregnant."

Enjolras' head turned, to see Combeferre and Joly talking.

"I think that yes," Joly whispered silently.

"Joly, Combeferre, stop talking about Jane finally. She is pregnant. Okay, let her live her own life and concentrate on something useful instead."

Joly and Combeferre changed a strange looks, then their heads turned to Enjolras again.

"Okay," Joly said.

"Then let's work. We need to publish it on our web, to let people know. And Bahorel, would you print some leaflets? Okay, that's good. And the last thing... We will let people now about it exactly from us. Now, let's divide the parts of city between us," he said and he pulled a map of city from his bag. Amis were watching his quick movements of hand and pencil.

"Jehan, the East side. And I'll take this part," Enjolras continued and the pencil has drawn a circle around the poor quarter of city. That quarter he has already visited once.

"We'll start tomorrow," he said, but was interrupted by the arrival of that girl.

Girl came with different kinds of coffee. Enjolras looked up, seeing, that Joly and Combeferre are talking again.

"Éponine, may we ask you a question?" Combeferre started.

Enjolras brows twisted. That was her name! Éponine. How could he forget? This was that kind of name you don't forget easily. But she was no one important to him before. She is no one important to him now.

She was watching Combeferre. What does he want from her?

"Sure. What is it?" she asked, quite surprised.

"Is it girl or boy? Congratulations by the way."

Her expression changed to really confused one.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Well, don't tell us you don't know," Joly said.

"But about what?"

Joly and Combeferre looked at each other. Enjolras was listening and so was everybody else. They wanted to know what is going on here. And she wanted to know it too.

"Your pregnancy?" Joly said in strange thin voice which didn't fit him.

She froze, her eyes wide open, looking at them with opened mouth.

"Pregnancy... What?"

The tray she was holding in her hands fell down on floor, with dumb slam. For a second there was complete silence. Even the other visitors were silent in that second. Time has stopped.

"You're pregnant aren't you?" Combeferre asked, giving the time its concept again. Enjolras could tell that Combeferre already knows the answer.

"Pregnant..." she whispered, putting her hands on the small bump which has suddenly become visible after they've mentioned her pregnancy.

Pregnant...

"I... I have to go," she said and she disappeared sooner, than someone could stop her.

Joly sighed.

"I guess from her reaction, that she hasn't known," Combeferre muttered more to himself than to Amis.

"Well, but it is a good new. Maybe there would be another little Amis running around," Jehan said, writing something down in his notebook with Enjolras' pencil. Poem probably.

"I don't know if it is such a good new," Enjorlas muttered.

When he imagined the cold dirty dangerous place, he couldn't imagine Éponine's child living there. Also she is maybe too young to carry a baby. How old she can be? Seventeen?  
Okay, it's not like there weren't younger pregnant girls. But she was someone he has known. Or better said, someone he tried to know.

"I'm going to take some fresh air," he said and took his coat from his chair. It was too much of information and thoughts his mind has to process. He greeted Musichetta, who was colder to him in past days but she was still being friendly. He understood her.

He understood that he shouldn't have acted like that, the evening three days ago. That he isn't acting like this usually. He didn't even understood his motives to do such a thing. Now, he didn't understand at all.

He opened the door, seeing the sharp, gold light of the sun.

* * *

Pregnant... How did this happen?  
Sure, she know how... but... How is it even possible?  
She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.  
"I can't be pregnant," she whispered.  
She knows, that the child will only suffer. That it will become another toy of her father. That it will hate her for sure. She can't be mother. She can't raise a child. She is not prepared to!  
And father of this child... That bastard won't give a second look. Now, which of those bastards was it? Which of those men was a father to this child?  
Her hands touched the small bump.  
What about abortion? No... She won't do that. Even if her father would force her to she won't do it.  
She sighed. That child will have a hell on earth once it'll be born. But she wasn't able to take its life. It wasn't her choice to do so.  
And she won't do it willingly.

* * *

"Tomorrow is going to be rainy," he stated, when he saw big gray clouds on the sky. He just sighed and started to walk.

He was ready to walk his usual route, when he heard some noise from the alley between Musain and the building next to it.  
He looked there, immediately recognizing her. She was sitting on ground, holding her head in her hands, sobbing silently.

He hesitated. He still couldn't get that strange feeling which he has built against her off. She did something no one did in millennium. And that just felt... strange.

But after a little fight in his mind he decided to walk to her.

She didn't notice him immediately.

"Mademoiselle?" he asked.

Her eyes lifted to see him. He could see, that she immediately put that illusion in front of her eyes. The barrier no one could break. Only she.

"Monsieur?" she asked, standing up slowly, wiping away her tears.

"I... I'm sorry for my acts. You know... from that day...I don't act like that usually. I have no right to talk to you like that. I'm really sorry," he said.

She nodded and her head lowered down a little.

"I wasn't the best either."

"You're here because of that... information you get from Joly and Combeferre?"

"Yes, I suppose... I just have to... process it and take it..."

Only now he started to think about her pregnancy the other way. Does she want it? Or was she... forced to it? What is she hiding behind that illusions of hers?

"Well, if you need any help, we are here for you. Just tell us," he said, surprised by himself. Was it pity talking through his mouth? Or was it Patria?

"Thanks, Monsieur" she mumbled. Silence set between them. He was watching the dirt on his shoe, then his look moved on the wall in front of him.

"You can call me Enjolras. In eyes of Patria, we are all equal," he said.

"Then don't call me Mademoiselle either. I'm Éponine," she responded and leaned against the wall.

"Okay then, Éponine. May I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," she said, watching him.

"Do you think, that we have a chance to succeed in our case?" he asked her, waiting for her response.

She was watching him carefully.

Clouds have come earlier, than Enjolras' has thought they would. It was colder now, the light of the sun weaker and weaker by the second.

"Truth be told... No. I don't think so. Not yet," she said, looking exactly into his eyes.

His fists clenched unwittingly.

"And the reason for your opinion is...?"

"Look Monsieur... Enjolras. We... I mean poor...You've probably realized I'm poor. We aren't prepared for changes. Not yet. Actually most of us are satisfied with the situation. And those who are not are too afraid to act. You need something more than students to convince us," she said.

"I'll make that protest nevertheless."

"Then good luck."

She turned and walked out of the alley. He was watching her for a few seconds, then he turned and continued his walk.

He was sure that she was the one who's not satisfied with the situation, but is too afraid... Of what? Who knows...

He was watching clouds moving. He could saw a rain in the distance. These days will be wet and cold.

His look wandered to that quarter again. He was preparing himself for tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'll be standing there, speaking to poor, trying to convince them. Trying to explain them the situation. And Patria will be following him. Patria will be beside him.

* * *

When he returned to Café after a while, he found Amis in good mood.

"Enjolras is coming! And we haven't even started," Grantaire sighed, sipping from his bottle.

He looked at them, then to table. A bottle was in the middle, waiting for someone's hand to twirl it.

"Truth or dare? Really? I've thought that you've grown up," he sighed and sat behind the table.

"Does it mean you are not going to stop us?" Bousset asked.

Enjolras just sighed and pulled out his book.

"Éponine, Musichetta are you joining us? There aren't any other visitors now!" Courfeyrac shouted at two girls, who were talking silently.

"Come Éponine," Musichetta said and they joined Amis.

"Let's start. Enjolras are you playing too?" Combeferre asked, already knowing, what kind of response is he going to get.

"No, you know, that's nothing for me."

Combeferre nodded and twirled the bottle. Combeferre smiled, when he saw that bottle stopped on Courfeyrac.

"So, truth or dare?"

"Dare!" Courfeyrac smiled.

Combeferre stopped to think.

"I know! Mix all those coffees and drink the result!"

"Combeferre! I've thought, that you'll use your chance better! Drink a few coffees? That isn't even dare!"

"Okay, then drink it and eat your moldy bread, which you've forgotten in your bag for two weeks and you're too lazy to pull it out!" Combeferre said.

"How do you know about that bread?!"

"I have a nose..."

Everyone was watching Courfeyrac, as he was pouring one kind of coffee to another. And then he pulled out that moldy bread.

"I won't give up," he said and started to drink that mix of coffees. They were watching his sour expression. Soon they were laughing at him. Poor Courf couldn't bring himself to take another sip.

"C'mon Courf. You don't give up!" Musichetta laughed.

Courf's angered look was watching the dark liquid in cup. He closed his eyes and drank it as fast as he was able to.

"Combeferre please, don't make me eat that bread! For the sake of my digestive tract!" Courf said and he grabbed Grantaire's bottle and swallowed the rest of liquid inside.

"Hey!" Grantaire took his bottle to him immediately. "It was from my Russian friend! And you've drunk it all now! My dear vodka!"

"Grantaire, you don't have any Russian friend," Jehan said, but his statement stayed without a response.

"Well Courf, I think that you'll have a stomachache even without it so... Your turn," Combeferre said and handed bottle to Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac took the bottle and it stopped on Joly.

"So Joly... truth or dare?"

"I know exactly what would you ask if I would choose truth so I'm choosing dare," Joly sighed.

"Lick the floor for one minute and sing random song during it!"

"How long have you been preparing this?" Feuilly burst of laugh.

"You can't do this to me... There's so much of viruses, bacteria and dirt! I can die on some unknown sickness!"

"Calm down... And lick!"

Enjolras sighed. He was looking at poor Joly, who was licking the floor with disguise, singing Jingle Bells, even when it was September.

After the minute everyone clapped and Joly's gone to toilets.

"Well, he's going to be there for a half of an hour at least... Who's going to twirl the bottle?" Bahorel asked.

Everyone turned to Enjolras.

"What, I'm not playing," he said.

"Only this turn Enj! It won't kill you!" they laughed.

He took the bottle with loud sigh.

Not her... not her... Oh, what an irony. It was her.

"Truth or dare Éponine?"

"Truth," she said.

"Okay, I've chosen you a person, but I'm not asking," he said, taking his book.

"You are so boring sometimes..."

"Okay, let's ask something," Courf said.

"Who's the lucky daddy?" Grantaire shouted, making a few Amis to cover their ears.

Enjolras looked at Éponine, awaiting her reaction.

"I...you don't know him," she said. Enjolras could tell, that she's hiding something again.

"You have to introduce him to us!" Grantaire continued.

"Well..." she whispered.

"What's the matter?"

"He's not too friendly..."

"Then he will become one!"

"You don't understand, Grantaire," she said.

"What's the problem, Éponine?" Combeferre asked, realizing, that something's not right. Enjolras was watching the scene on front of him. Where this stupid game will lead after all? This certainly isn't going to end well.

"I...I just can't bring him here..."

"Why?"

"Because I don't even know who the father is!" she burst and stood up sharply.

Everyone was watching her in complete shock, not knowing what to do, what to say.

"Satisfied?" she whispered and started to walk away.

"Wait Éponine!" Enjolras' voice rang through the room, ripping the awkward silence.

She stopped, but her head didn't turn to their direction.

"Yes?"

"Who did this to you?"

She laughed silently.

"What has brought you to the idea, that I did not do it willingly?" she asked and even if they couldn't saw her face, they were sure, that hot tears are running down her cheeks.

"You did not," he said.

There was silence. Complete silence.  
Then she just walked away.

"Éponine!" he shouted after her.

She turned sharply.

"Yes, I was raped. Is that enough? Or what else do you want to know?"

And with that she walked away from them.  
And this is why he hates this game so much. People have to say things they just can't. They have to do things which are so stupid...

He turned to Amis. He didn't say anything. And for them it was worse than if he would give them speech about rights and equality.

He took his bag. The atmosphere here was too awkward for him. And he has to think.  
And as he was slowly walking across the streets, his mind was full of her problems.

Raped.

How can anyone do that? How even dared that man, who did it?

She isn't first... and certainly not last. But no one deserves this. No one.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**  
I'm really sorry for late you for reading, reviewing, following and favoring. Means a lot for me. Again, I'm sorry for my English.  
Enjoy!

I own nothing.

* * *

She came home, almost running to bathroom. She stopped in front of broken mirror, looking into her face.

"Why did I even tell them? Now they know... Now they'll be just more curious..."

She was looking at single tear, which was falling slowly through the air, crashing on floor, shattering. Just like her life did a long time ago.

Silent knock came from behind the door.

"Éponine? Are you alright?" Azelma's voice rang through her head.

"No, I'm not alright," she murmured and sighed. She came to door, opening it, seeing her sister.

"Yes, I think so," Éponine said. Azelma was looking at her with strange look, but let her go.

Éponine sighed as she walked out of the flat.  
Her family is about to take another member in. How can she handle it alone? Without help?

Oh, yes. Her father won't care. Her mother, which is always closed in her room won't care either. Father of this kid can hardly take care of himself.  
Her siblings, Gavroche and Azelma can show a little care. But they're just kids. They can't look after someone else, when they still need someone to look over them.  
She sat on pavement, breathing heavily.

"Well, little one. We'll have a hard life together."

* * *

Enjolras has woken up with strength and energy. Today his plans, his dreams, it will all take a right direction. Today, his dreams start. And he believed, that they'll become true once.

He walked into garage, looking at his black car.  
But after a minute he decided to go on his own legs. If he would take his car, he will probably left it in front of Musain and he will have to return for it later.

When he reached Musain, it has already its visitors inside. He was pleased to see, that half of the Amis are already there, waiting in front of Musain.

"Good morning!" he said as he walked towards them.

"It seems you're in good mood," Combeferre smiled at him.

Enjolras ignored this statement.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

He looked up, to sky. He was wrong about the weather. Clouds almost disappeared and it seemed, that it's going to be sunny after the lunch.

"They'll be here in a minute. Don't worry," Combeferre said.

He nodded and was watching the early morning traffic. Managers, policemen, workers... There were different kinds of people in cars. But everyone was in rush to get to work on time.

One of the car, the yellow one parked in front of the Musain. Soon, he could see Grantaire, Courfeyrac, Bahorel and Feuilly.

"Finally," he said, when they came.

"What, no good morning? Or how do you do? Huh?" Grantaire asked.

Enjolras just ignored drunkard and turned to Amis.

"Today it all starts. On this day depends everything. So try hard. Make people hear you. Ignite the flame in their hearts and they'll come. To the revolution!" he said.

"To the revolution!" they answered loudly.

He started to feel that flame in his own heart is raising and raising. It felt as a right thing.

"Go now," he said and he took direction to that quarter.

Amis disappeared into streets too and the day has started. The day, that decided on everything. The day, which changed their lives forever. The day, which they can curse and praise at once.

* * *

He was looking at that horrible place again, walking through its cold dirty streets.

He was thinking, that this place won't be so dark and scary as the first time. Mistake. A big mistake. It felt even worse. Maybe because now he isn't just exploring the dark corners of the streets. Now he is going to talk to the people actually. To meet their looks, gazes, faces... To meet the cruel reality of this place.

Suddenly, a beggar appeared in front of him, his hands were forming a shape of bowl. He was dirty and he stink after a beer. Terrible smell for someone like Enjolras, but smell sent from paradise for beggars.

"Spare some money! Please!" beggar said in rough voice, walking closer.

"Monsieur, I'm here to talk about the revolution. With your help we can win a protest for your laws and you would receive more money. We can create a new, better world together," he said, but it seemed, that beggar absolutely ignored his words.

"Come on, just a few coins, good Monsieur," beggar said and he extended his hands towards Enjolras.

Enjolras, who didn't exactly know what to do, put his hand into his pocket and gave the beggar some coins.

"Thank you, good Monsieur," beggar said and limped away from him.

Enjolras leaned against the filthy wall. This is going to be harder than he thought before.

"Snob! Only this?" he heard beggar's voice from behind.

He took a deep breath and left the alley as fast as he could.  
He heard angry screams from somewhere. Breaking some glass... And was it a gunshot? Goose bumps were running through his body with each other sound reaching his ears.

"This wasn't the best idea," he said, when he saw angry looking band of teenagers. He pushed his body against the wall again, preventing them from seeing him.

When they disappeared, he walked across the street, seeing some prostitutes and beggars in one group.

"Listen people! Revolution is coming! The better tomorrow is close! 20th September is the day, when it all starts! Come and support us! We're fighting in your name for your rights! We can make this together!" his voice was echoing through the streets, but no one gave him a look. Everyone was silent, like he hasn't even said anything.

"Mademoiselle, will you come?!" he asked a woman in a ragged skirt and dirty shirt, bottle in her hand.

"How much are you paying?" she asked, revealing her yellow rotten teeth.

His eyes widened. Who are those people? Do they really care only for money?

"We... aren't paying," he said. Woman immediately lost interest and sat down to her friends.

He sighed and continued.  
Hours were passing and he was standing here without a single person, who would be interested in his cause. Is it even possible?  
His look caught a frame of small boy, who was sitting on empty barrel.

"Hey, boy," he started. Boy turned his head to him and immediately run away.

"Hey! Wait!" he shouted after him, but without succeed.

He sighed and sat on the same barrel, where the boy was sitting before.  
He was watching the building in front of him.  
Broken windows;door, which holds only by its good will; filthy walls. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He stood up and entered the alley which boy has entered before. He was walking slowly, ignoring empty bottles of beer, cans of who knows what and broken glass.

Stink of urine entered his nose again. He coughed, covering his mouth immediately.

"How can those people live there?" he asked himself.

When he looked in front off himself, he saw another group of prostitutes and beggars.

"Citizens of..."

"Shut up. We've heard about you already. You're the brat who is talking about that revolution. Now leave us. One way or the other," the oldest beggar stood up and his look was dangerous and angry.  
Enjolras stepped back. But then he stretched his body and stepped forward.

"Don't you understand? Revolution is..."

"I've told you to leave us haven't I? So leave!" beggar told him and others were standing up too.

"You don't understand! We want help you!" he said.

"That's enough! Jack, Martin after him!" beggar said and suddenly, two men were walking to him. They were dangerous, one look on them was enough to gain a knowledge of it.

"And here I am. In trouble again."

* * *

Two men were getting closer and closer. But his legs suddenly didn't obey. He froze.

"Fool," he heard old beggar muttering.

"Rodrigo, stop right now!" a familiar voice came from behind him. He didn't turn. His body didn't allow him to. He was just watching the scene in front of him.

"What do we have here? Little Thénardier. How's daddy?" beggar smiled at the person with a smirk.

"Let this student be. He's a fool. He doesn't even belong here," the voice said.

"Work brain, work!" Enjolras was shouting in his mind. He wanted to know whose voice is it.

"Well Thénardier, and what do we get when we let him be? Nothing."

"Let him be," voice repeated.

Thénardier... "Work brain! Now, when I need you, you're having a pause?"

"Okay, but I'll let your beloved father know about it," smirk on his face even grew.

Enjolras wanted to leave this place. He watched as two men sat down and let him be.

He felt a hand on his arm. And this touch has woken his body and he turned to see a figure in shadow with a hood. He was not able to identify that person. But the voice was girl's. He knew it for sure.

Wait... His brain started to work again.

"Éponine?" he asked but she put hand on his mouth immediately.

"Don't use my name here much. Now shut up and be quiet until I don't get you out of here," she said and waited for him to nod.

He nodded and her hand left his lips. She was walking a few steps in front of him, through the alleys, across the streets. She's stopped several times and returned but after a half of an hour, she get him out of the maze.

"I didn't think you're stupid Monsieur Enjolras. I've thought you to be an intelligent person. But you're doing this! How could you even think about going there?" she asked him, hood still staying on her head.

"Éponine, you know, that we're planing protest and we need people there! I was trying to explain them the situation!"

"But you don't understand! These people here, they have given up or they have adapted. It's the only way of living here," she said to him.

He was silent for a few seconds.

"Well, thank you for saving me," he said. She shook her head lightly.

"Your only luck were the same people, which weren't listening you. The whole quarter knew about you after a hour of you being here. I was looking for you, because I knew you won't stay alive for too long here. This isn't place for boys like you," she said looking around carefully. She looked scared, and she was still turning around. Like there is someone watching or following her.

"And is it a place for you?"

To this question he didn't get an answer.

"You should go," she said.

"Are you going to be alright? You know, for saving me..."

"Don't worry about me. I know my way around," she said and walked towards the dark alley.

" Éponine?" he asked. She turned around, waiting for him to ask something.

"That beggar... He has addressed you... Thénardier?"  
She just sighed at this.

"My surname," she said and disappeared into the dark shadows of this place.  
Her surname...

He was watching the poor quarter for a few minutes, then his look moved to pavement in front of him, and his legs carried him home.

"This wasn't a good day," he whispered and kicked a small rock, which was in his way.

"I hope boys were doing better," he sighed and he opened the door to his flat.

"I hope she will be alright," he whispered and he sat down on his couch.

Day, which changed their lives was slowly ending. And the next day, which is preparing to change their lives again, was waiting for its start.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N  
**Another chapter here. Short I know, I'll try to write a longer ones. Also, not much of happening here.  
Thank you for following, favoring,reading and reviewing.  
I'm sorry for my English too.  
Enjoy and write a review if you want!

I own nothing.

* * *

"So, were you successful?"

They were sitting together in Musain in a good and friendly atmosphere. Enjolras has just finished his short speech and now he's asking about results of yesterday's action.

"Well, each of us created a list of people who will come. It's seems good," Combeferre said and handed those lists to Enjolras.

Enjolras' fingers touched the paper and he took those lists, sitting down.

"It's not bad," he muttered as he was reading results. Around fifty people will come. That's a good start.

Musichetta has joined them, because Musain was almost empty. Enjolras often wondered, why the owner doesn't want to close it. But sometimes Musain is almost full and waitresses have to work on 100%,and even more. But most of the time, the Café is calm and silent.

"Where's Éponine?" Grantaire asked. Enjolras couldn't help but noticed, that drunkard is acting rather strange this day. He wasn't so drunk, he wasn't talking so much and he almost looked like a student. And that was quite strange.

"She's gone to gynecologist. Truth be told, I'm curious about the results. After the night she's found out, she was... well, quite distant," girl answered and sighed, when she saw a new visitor entering the Musain. She stood up.

"I'm back in minute," she said and disappeared from Enjolras' eyes.

"What do you think, what is the child like? Boy or girl?" Combeferre asked.

Most of the Amis screamed: "Boy!"

But Jehan and few others gave them a strange look and said: "Girl of course!"

Joly looked at them and sighed.

"What if she has twins?" he said. "They can be boy and girl."

Enjorlas sighed and looked at those lists once again.

His dreams are coming true. This protest is going to be succes. Fifty people! They haven't get more than twenty last time.  
But something still bothered him. Why not a single soul from those unhappy places doesn't want to help? Why nobody from the poor quarters understand? Why do they want to stay silent?

Suddenly, a voice rang through his head. A voice of Éponine.  
"These people here, they have given up or they have adapted."

Maybe that's the reason. People are too afraid, too scared. But maybe it's something else.

"What do you think Enjolras?"

His head lifted a little.

"What do I think about what?"

"About Éponine having boy or girl." Courfeyrac laughed.

"Boy," he said without thinking. He always wanted a son as a first child. Daughter can come later, but the first child should be son in his opinion. He thought about his family, in which is this dream of his different. He's an older sister and then comes he.

"I've told you," Courfeyrac said and Bahorel handed him a few coins.

Enjolras shook his head lightly. Amis are still like a little kids. Musichetta wasn't coming back and soon he understood why. Visitors were coming and coming in and it didn't seem, that they'll stop anytime soon.

Soon, the silence disappeared and Musain turned to a loud Café.

Enjolras thought he saw Éponine in this mess of people's bodies but even if it was her, she disappeared from his sight.

"What are we going to do?" Bousset asked.

"Well, since the plans are almost done, I think that you can have a pause," Enjolras said standing up from his seat.

"Where are you going?" someone, probably Jehan asked him.

"Out. It's getting too loud here," he said and started to walk through the room. He noticed, that the people were a realy big group of tourists returning from somewhere, choosing Musain as their destination

As he was walking, he saw her again, now he was sure that it was her.

"Good day Éponine," he said, when he was walking around her.

"Good day to you as well," she said in rush and almost didn't look at him. But he understood.

He walked out and took his usual walk around park which was near to Café. He was thinking about his cause mostly.

"Maybe now, father will be proud of me," he thought as he was walking. Enjolras' childhood wasn't easy. His father was still in his work and mother was leaving often too, so Enjolras and his sister were in the care of babysitter. When their parents came home together, which was really rare, they were still talking about their work. If Enjolras father didn't speak about work, he spoke mostly about Enjolras' future. And maybe they weren't seeing each other much, but Enjolras has built a respect towards his father. And towards his mother too.  
And because of that Enjolras was deceived to do something, what will make his parents proud of him. And that something is going is a protest.

Corners of his lips lifted a little, when he remembered on his sister, which was now in the other city. They don't see each other much now, but when they were younger, they were seeing each other at least once a week. Now it is only at Christmas and on some other days in year. But even if they don't see each other much, he knows that he can count on her.

"You're my younger brother," she's said, "you can always count on me."

And he believed her. He was holding his phone, looking at her number. He wanted to call her at first, but decided that now it isn't the best time and he slowly put his phone back to his pocket.

He continued in his walk, still thinking.

His mind was still returning to previous day. Now, he was able to remember on everything clearer. The argument he had, with that group of beggars has returned. He heard their words again. He saw their smirks and their dirty faces. He saw the poverty.

_"Fool,"_ he heard old beggar muttering once again. And that was the moment she's stopped them. Who knows how would he end if she wouldn't appeared.

_"Okay, but I'll let your beloved father know about it,"_ the beggar in his illusion said again. What does he mean by that. Why did he say that sentence in that tone to her? Something about it just isn't right. Something in it sounds so... dangerous and almost like a mockery or threat. Or everything combined into one sentence.

When he returned to Musain, the tourists have left finally, Éponine and Musichetta were cleaning the cups in behind.

He slowly sat to Amis and listened what is their discussion about. As soon as he found out it's about football players he lost interest. Not that he isn't watching sports. But Amis can discuss on this topic for hours and after those hours, they find themselves at the start of the conversation,which automatically starts again.

He saw, that Musichetta is coming to them.  
"That was terrible," she said as she sat down to Joly.

"Is Éponine here?" Grantaire asked again. Enjolras' brows lifted a little. A drunkard is asking about her a second time today. But no one except Enjolras noticed. He wondered, why did he notice.

"Yes, she's already come. And I'm happy she has because I would die here alone. Those tourists were just terrible," Musichetta said and sighed again.

She ended her words and Éponine appeared, sitting to them.

Combeferre stood up. Enjolras was watching him, expecting, what is he about to do.

"Éponine, we're just sorry for that evening. You know, we shouldn't have asked you," he said.

"It's alright."

Enjolras was glad, that Combeferre excused Amis. It seemed that everything will be alright after some time, but everyone noticed the distance, that Éponine was keeping towards them.

"So, Éponine. What's the gynecologist told you?" Musichetta asked.

Éponine smiled a little. That was a good sign.

"Everything seems to be alright. I'm in 14th week now. Well, it seems to be just fine," she said.

"And what about gender?" Courfeyrac asked.

"It's too early to determine the gender now Courf. Wait a month, maybe more and you'll find out," Joly explained to Courfeyrac.

"You know, I still don't get how couldn't you notice," Combeferre sighed.

To this, Éponine just shrugged. Enjolras was watching her. There, on her cheek was a cut. And he wanted to know, who did this to her. And why.

Her look met his for a second. His eyes were trying to ask her those questions, and it seemed, that she understood. Her eyes promised him an explanation. And he was only waiting for her to explain.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**  
First of all, I want to apologize for the late update. Thank you for your patience, for reading, reviewing, following, favoring...  
I am really sorry for all mistakes.  
Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

They were walking, cold pavement under their feet, trees on their left side, road on the right.  
His look was lowered. He sighed silently, lifted his head and looked at her.

"Éponine, who? Who did this to you?" he asked and pointed on her bruised cheek.

She sighed too. Her expression was enough to tell, that she really doesn't want to talk about this.

"It was the price," she said after all, her look not moving away from her feet.  
Wind was blowing into their faces, bringing leaves and petals with him.

"Price for what?" he asked. He somehow knew what was that price for. He just wanted be sure. He just wanted to know.  
She shook her head lightly.

"For your life," she whispered. She whispered and that was all.

So his assumptions were right. He knew it deep inside his heart. And he was somehow upset about it. He didn't want her to take the punishment for his mistakes.  
She realized that he is thinking and it wasn't hard for her to tell about what.

„Enjolras, you can't go to them. You can't call police. You can't call lawyers. You can do nothing. Stay where you are and don't go near the quarter. I've been punished for a reason. Don't take the guilty on yourself," she said.

„But I was the one who..."

„My father always finds some failure or something he doesn't like. Maybe you've just quickened it," she shook her head again. He couldn't help, but realized, that her voice trembled.

„When is the protest?" she suddenly changed the topic.

Maybe it was the best thing to do that time. Change the topic and forget about the past which you can't change...

„Well, 20th September. We have two more days to prepare it properly," he answered her question and the silence set between them.  
He looked at her again. She's stopped.  
Her hands were placed on her stomach. Or better on the bump which was now so visible.

„Is something wrong?" he asked, but got no response. Something bad was about to happen... He felt it.

„I... I think that..." she started, but her voice faded.

„Are you alright?"

„I think that the baby's coming," she whispered.

He looked from her eyes to the bump and back again. Complete shock set on his face. On hers as well. She's said that everything's alright with the baby! She's said everything's fine!

„What?!" he asked her, hoping, that he somehow overheard her or his imagination just created this.

„It's... coming. I'm... losing the baby," she whispered, her voice trembling.

This isn't possible... This just can't be right.

„You... It's not possible… It's too small…Are you sure?"  
„Enjolras! Of course I am sure! I've felt something like a cramp a few minutes before... I've thought, that it's nothing...And now again," she said and leaned against the tree, tear running down her face.

„Stay here... I'm going for a car. I'm here in five minutes..." he said.  
Losing the baby... He was running as fast as he could.  
Why? Why must this happen to her? Why is life so unfair to her?

He found himself in front of his car. His hand entered his pocket, to find the keys.

„Baby will be alright. She will be alright... Doctors can take care about them..."he was murmuring while he was driving.  
Soon, he saw her. She was in the same position as when he left her. He almost jumped from the car, opening the door for her, helping her to get into it.

He was panicking, when he saw blood on her hand.

"What's that?" he asked in rush.

"Blood," she whispered. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he stayed in the same position and wasn't asking her questions anymore.

„I'm sorry for this," she said, but he didn't answered. His brain was working hard, to get his attention to road in front of him.  
And she... she was just silent, tears running down her face.  
When he saw the building of hospital, he exhaled silently. They made it.

* * *

The things, that happened after this were quite a mystery to him. He was just sitting on some chair, mobile phone in his hand. He's just sent a text to Amis and Musichetta. Most of them are on their way here.  
He was nervous.  
Minutes were floating quickly, hours even quicker. He looked up when he heard them. Worried look on their faces, something strange in their eyes.

"Enjolras, what happened?" Joly asked him.

Enjolras lifted his head up.

"We were walking and she stopped suddenly, talking about baby and cramps and… I don't know…" he answered to his friends.

"I wonder how this happened… She's just come from gynecologist. This shouldn't have happened…" Combeferre muttered under his breath.

"Gynecologists aren't stupid… This is really strange, especially after the visit of gynecologist… This seems impossible… But what if… oh, nothing," Joly was talking. Others sat down too, just listening to the conversation.

"What?" Enjolras asked Joly. Joly lowered his eyes.

"Well, A thought came to my head… I mean, this could happen by the mistake of gynecologist… but what if she wasn't in gynecologist's in reality? What if she lied to us for some reason?"

The question was echoing the air, ringing in their ears. And most of them realized, what Joly wanted to say. And most of them believed it.

"Anyone here for Miss Jondrette?" doctor suddenly appeared. No one of them has realized his presence until he hasn't spoken. He was a tall man with serious face and deep eyes. He was watching them with those eyes, expecting their response.

"Yes, we. Is everything alright with her? And the baby?" Combeferre took the word and talked to doctor.

"What? Her surname isn't Jondrette…" Enjolras muttered.

"And what other surname has she?" Bahorel asked from behind his back.

"Thén… nothing… I guess you're right," Enjolras said and tried to listen to the conversation between doctor and Combeferre. His brain find out later, that this name, or the name Thénardier is false.

"Are you father?" doctor asked.

"No, father's not here. We're friends," Combeferre stated with a worried tone of the voice.

"Oh…. Well, I don't know I'm the right person to tell you then…"

"Just tell us," Enjolras cut him off, maybe too harshly. But it seemed, that doctor is used to these situations and he took it calmly.  
He looked at them.

"But be prepared," he said.  
And from this moment, Enjolras knew, that something bad happened.

"Miss Jondrette is mostly alright. But the baby… I'm sorry, but the baby is no longer with us," doctor said. Everyone was looking at him, mouths open, eyes wide.

"It has died shortly after we've managed to get it out. The gender was unknown yet. I'm sorry."

Few of the Amis sat down on chairs. Few of them stood. Few of them were still staring at doctor.

"She didn't deserve this," someone whispered.

"What… what was the cause?" Joly asked.

Everyone wanted to know, but no one wanted to hear.

"She was beaten badly… " doctor said. And that was enough for everyone. All of them understood.

After a second of silence, Joly asked: "If you know, how many weeks was she pregnant?"  
This question was rather strange.

"From what I know she was in 12th week. If she... wouldn't be beaten than everything would be normal probably..." doctor said.  
So now it was confirmed... She lied. She's said she's in 14th week... She's lied.

"How is she?" Enjolras asked, trying to get his voice to sound like usually. He needed to be strong. He wanted to help her somehow.

"She's sleeping now," doctor said.

"Does she…know?" someone, maybe Bahorel asked.

"Yes… yes she does," doctor sighed. It seemed, like he was pitying them, pitying Éponine, pitying the poor child.

"And how did she take it?"

"I don't know. It scared her, when we've told her. She was crying, she held her child in her hands and then the medicine drifted her to sleep."

The world seemed so black… So empty, so dark, so scary, so… unfair. Everything was just bad. Everything was painted in black. Everything was sinking into darkness.

"If you would need anything contact me," doctor said and handed his card to Joly.

"Thank you," Joly muttered.

And terrible silence appeared. Terrible silence which didn't want to disappear. Terrible silence, which was taking their last scraps of hope.

* * *

Beaten… Enjolras mind was working harder than ever. He was trying to get the broken pieces into the right place. She was beaten… That was the reason why she wasn't at Musain. Not a visit of gynecologist. She was being beaten. And she knew she was carrying a child… What animal can do this? What creature is able to? And why was she silent? Why didn't she tell anyone?

"What if it's my fault ?" he asked himself. "What if this was the price she had to pay?"

He was left in his thought, alone because the night has set and everyone went home.

What was holding him here? Was it the feeling of gnawing guilty? Was he even guilty? Or was it a care for this poor girl, waitress?

"You are still here I see," a voice from above him said.

Enjolras lifted his head and saw doctor's face. Doctor was now in civil clothes, a small suitcase in his right hand. His shift has probably ended.  
He sat to Enjolras.

"It's hard, I know. Is she somehow related to you?" doctor started the conversation.

"No, just friend," he said, his look on white wall in front of him. The white wall he was looking on the whole time he was there.

"And her family? Do they know?"

Anger, which was hidden inside Enjolras' heart has awoken. Suddenly he realized. The words of the old beggar reached his ears again.  
"Okay, but I'll let your beloved father know about it," the words echoed and echoed and he was slowly getting the pieces in right place.

Thénardier! That thief and murderer... her father. Her own father did this!

„I don't know," he answered to doctor's question, trying to get his voice its normal sound.

"Well, go to her. She will need a help with this. It's hard for her now. Maybe she's woken up. Go and see her. Room 16," doctor said with an indication of smile.

Enjolras wondered why has he smiled. What was a reason for smile?

He sighed and got up from plastic chair, looking around. There weren't many people as he was walking to the room. Some sisters, few doctors and few waiting people.

Room 16 slowly appeared in front of his eyes. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly. His hand took the handle and opened the door quietly.  
He entered.

She was sitting on bed, her look on the wall in front of her. She wasn't looking well. Her head turned to him and a terrible smile appeared. A thing, which shouldn't be called smile.

"Enjolras."

He closed the door, looking at her.

"Éponine, I'm sorry," he said. He was just standing, looking at her.

"There isn't a reason for you to be sorry," she said.

"But…"

"You aren't guilty! I am!" she yelled and her hands slowly covered her face.

"If I would have the courage… If I wouldn't obey him… Baby would be alright," she was crying, her body trembling.

He had no idea, what is she talking about. And he doesn't even want to find out. He was aware, that he doesn't know her well. But now, he's realizing, that he doesn't know her at all. Like if she's two faces, two lives… Like he knows only the first part, but the second reminds a secret.

"Éponine, if… if you would need anything, just tell me," he get this sentence from himself after a while. It was still strange for him to act with women.

She gave him that terrible smile again. How he wanted to see the real smile on her face at the moment…

"Thank you."

This day didn't bring any good. This day changed their lives. This day has written into their hearts words, which could never fade. Which would be remembered for the rest of their lives.


End file.
